


Say Goodbye to My Heart Tonight

by sistercacao



Series: GW Advent Calendar [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M, POV Alternating, Post-Canon, Preventers (Gundam Wing), Sappy, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 23:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sistercacao/pseuds/sistercacao
Summary: Out with coworkers on a cold winter's night, Duo and Heero find themselves trying to find ways to avoid going home. Inspired by the song "Animal" by Neon Trees.





	Say Goodbye to My Heart Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2010 GW Advent Calendar on LJ.

Here we go again.  
  
Heero Yuy opens the door to his apartment and I seriously have to bite my cheek to keep from saying something I’ll regret. He’s wearing a dark blue shirt and black slacks and I just can’t believe how good he looks, like he just stepped out of a damn magazine. He’s got his coat over his arm and this funny look on his face, and I just smile, because what else can I do? My heart is beating like crazy. That look deepens to a frown.  
  
“Don’t say anything,” he mutters self-consciously.  
  
He’s not a fan of playing dress up, I know, and damn, it’s a real shame, because he cleans up really nice. I want to tell him so, but I don’t know how to say it without sounding like I’m drooling over him.  
  
“You look fine,” I manage, and he just snorts.  
  
He goes to lock the door behind him and shrug on his coat, and for a second it’s easy to imagine we’re on a date together, that I’m taking him to a nice restaurant where it will be just the two of us, that I could just kiss him right now in the hallway, or take his hand, or tell him that he actually does look really good,  _really_  good. God, to imagine that he would ever dress up like that for  _me_... yeah, it’s a nice fantasy, but that’s all it’ll ever be. We are friends, and that’s it, no matter how much I want to be more than that.  
  
We walk to the elevators, and Heero looks like he is not looking forward to this evening. I came to get him at his apartment because I was pretty sure he would have bailed on us otherwise. He hates going to dinners and spending time on a casual basis with all but a very select few people, but tonight is kind of a special case: one of our task force members just announced he asked his girlfriend in R &D to marry him, and we’re throwing them a congratulatory dinner at a nice restaurant downtown, and that means that Heero is just going to have to sack up and come celebrate with everyone.  
  
“What time is the reservation?” He asks in the elevator, frowning at his reflection in the mirror on the wall.  
  
I honestly don’t know what the guy sees when he looks at himself to make him scowl like that-- he’s gorgeous, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. In fact, I was specifically asked to make sure that Heero came out tonight by Sue, one of the fiancee’s friends in R&D, who followed up the request with, “he doesn’t have a girlfriend, right?” Just in case I wasn’t sure what her intentions were. I feel a stupid little pang of jealousy already, imagining all the flirting and eyelash-fluttering I’m going to have to watch, and I swallow it down.  
  
“Eight thirty,” I answer him, but I’m thinking about how grabby Sue gets after a couple of drinks, and now I’m probably going to need a few myself.  
  
It’s not that I think she’s going to get anywhere with Heero. She’s a pretty girl, but he seems kind of uninterested in the whole thing-- looking at it objectively, just the thought of Heero on a date with  _anyone_  seems a little ridiculous. I always thought if it was going to be anybody, it would be, you know, Relena Darlian, she of the pink sweaters and gold epaulets, but here we are, a couple years after the war, and it looks like Heero is going to stay a Preventer and Relena is going to stay Vice Foreign Minister out in Sanc and I guess I mistook whatever feelings he has for her as a different kind. I mean, if he loved her that way, wouldn’t he go to her? God knows I was on the next shuttle to Earth as soon as I heard Heero was signing up to be an Agent.  
  
But nobody knows that, of course. I’m good at playing pretend. I’ve had years of practice at this-- checking myself before I got  _too_  close, making sure I didn’t say things that might give too much away. Hell, I even gave Sue a wink and a “say no more” and it didn’t even get caught on the lump in my throat when I did.  
  
We step out of the building and I inhale sharply at the cold. I think I may never get used to winter on Earth; after years without seasons on L-2, it always takes me by surprise. It’s early December and they said on the news this morning that it was probably going to snow tonight, the first snow of the year. It certainly is cold enough for it. I think ahead to the lonely walk back to my apartment I have to take later and wish I had remembered gloves.  
  
Heero buttons up his coat, his breath fogging the air, but he’s not really affected by the weather, and he smirks a little as he watches me rub my hands together in a futile attempt to keep them warm. Laugh it up, Yuy. I briefly consider flipping him off, but I don’t even want to expose my hands long enough to do it, and I just shove them into my pockets instead as we set off down the street.  
  
I will say this for the Earth Sphere winter: it’s goddamn gorgeous. Every bar and shop on our way downtown is lit up for the holidays, even the streetlights and telephone poles strung up with lights that glow in the shapes of presents and evergreens and stars in a hundred different colors. It’s pretty damn amazing. We pass a small park on our left and I can see there are some couples strolling around, just looking at the lights together.  
  
For a second it’s dangerously easy to picture Heero and me like that, arms around his waist, one hand tucked warmly into the pocket of his coat, just enjoying the lights and being with each other. God, wouldn’t that be something?  
  
“You okay?” Heero says, looking at me curiously, and I realize that I’ve got my stupid melancholy plastered all over my face.  
  
I fix that real fast with a big fake smile, turning to Heero to tease, “so, you feeling any better about eating raw fish?”  
  
The change of subject works, and Heero makes a face. “Don’t remind me,” he mutters.  
  
“I always took you for more of an adventurous eater, Yuy,” I say, even though I was equally as apprehensive the first time I was dragged out to try sushi. Not to mention that I’m pretty sure Heero would gladly survive on army rations alone if he thought he could get away with it. I’m slowly dragging him into civilization-- well, my version at least, which is more like takeout pizza and Chinese most of the time, but even that isn’t all that easy.  
  
“There’s cooked stuff on the menu at this place, right?” He asks now, giving me a bit of a stricken look.  
  
“Hey! You said you’d give it a try! Don’t tell me you’re going to punk out five minutes from the restaurant!”  
  
“I said I’d  _try_  it,” he says dryly, “but I didn’t promise anything more than that.”  
  
“Better check that ‘tude, Yuy, or I’m gonna force-feed you an octopus roll.”  
  
“That’ll be the last thing you ever do again,” he growls, and I crack up.  
  
Man, I do not want to arrive at the restaurant. I want to just keep walking alone with him forever. I feel that little twinge in my chest and it tells me I’m definitely going to have to drink tonight. A buzz will carry me at least until Heero and I say goodnight, maybe until I make it back to my own apartment, but I’d need to get drunker than I’m willing to in front of Yuy in order to get to bed without tossing and turning for hours, thinking of him and the way he looks in that damn blue shirt. No, I won’t sleep tonight. Not without a drink or three back at the house.  
  
We turn a corner and there’s the restaurant, and I can see through the large window-front that most of our coworkers are already there. Someone spots us outside and waves, and I turn to Heero, for a moment wondering what I’ll say to reassure him that he’ll be fine, that he absolutely can go to a dinner party without screwing up, and even if he does, that it’s not a big deal, that I don’t care, I think he’s perfect just like this, and that the way he gets nervous at innocent things like social functions while never batting an eyelash in the face of certain death just makes me love him all the more. And I really love him a lot already.  
  
But all of that gets caught in my throat with the rest of the thousands of things I can never tell him and I just say, “remember, Heero: octopus rolls.”  
  
He gives me an icy glare and I cock a stupid smile, and we head inside.  
  
* * * *  
  
Here we are again.  
  
I’m sitting at a table of twenty Preventers Agents, almost all of whom I know personally, and yet I am still kicking myself that I didn’t pick a seat at the end in case I wanted to make a run for it. Instead, I am sandwiched between Grant, whose engagement is the only reason we are even at this restaurant, and Sue from R&D, and she has been talking at me for almost an hour without pause, leaning precariously into my personal space because “the room is way too noisy to even hear yourself talk.” She says this every time she inches closer, and it’s taking a lot of my resolve just to keep from barking at her that if I can hear her talking, she can certainly hear herself. I am acutely aware that her leg is encroaching ever closer to mine under the table, and I still have not figured out a way to get her to leave me alone that wouldn’t cause a scene. Instead, I’m drinking, and not talking to anyone, and I’m blaming Duo for putting me in this uncomfortable position in the first place.  
  
It’s not really Duo’s fault, it’s mine. I decided to sit down across from him, and not at the end of the table, because I wanted to watch him. I told myself three beers ago that it was so I could follow his cues, and not act as antisocial as I truly feel, but really, I just want to watch him. I always do.  
  
He’s deep in some conversation with two of our coworkers now, and judging by the way they are laughing, it’s hysterical. I’m nodding absently at whatever Sue is talking about and watching the way Duo’s mouth curves crookedly upwards when he laughs, the way his wide eyes crinkle at the edges, and wishing I knew how to operate in his vicinity, how to say the kinds of things that make him laugh like that, and a dark part of me is wishing, too, that he would look at no one else that way.  
  
But that is truly impossible. I am competing with the world for Duo Maxwell’s attention, and it is pathetic of me to imagine that I could actually hold it, maximize it. Everyone is a little bit in love with him, pulled just as inexorably into his orbit, even these two men in front of me, who are fighting each other in their own way to talk to him.  
  
I feel the chemicals kicking in, I can isolate and categorize them, but I am still powerless against their effects, the alcohol and the strange painful pleasure I get from watching Duo merging into a dopamine spike that warms my body and twists my heart. He is oblivious, he is all cocky smiles and wide, sparkling purple-blue eyes, even teeth, long delicate lashes, flushed cheeks, and he is beautiful, so beautiful that it seems to hover in the air around him like an aura, pulling people closer to him with preternatural attraction. I know one other person who has this effect on people, and she became Queen of the World because of it. God only knows what Duo could do if he knew he had it.  
  
Grant and his fiancee Janice are sitting side-by-side next to me, and their hands are clasped tightly on the table; they are talking to some of the other guests but their focus is obviously on each other. Grant is running his thumb gently up and down the back of Janice’s hand. I want to know what Duo’s hand feels like in mine. I want to touch him like that. I want him. I have never wanted anything so badly in my life.  
  
Duo turns to me now and I almost flinch; I’m afraid all my thoughts are lying plain on my face. He’s also had a few beers and his eyes are decidedly less focused now than they were at the beginning of the night.  
  
“Heero,” he says, grinning, “what do you think about the sushi?”  
  
He has been teasing me about this all week, ever since he found out I have never eaten raw food before. I have eaten plenty of stuff directly out of a can before, but I’ve never paid for the privilege of having my food  _not_  cooked. The intensity with which he watched me put the first piece of salmon into my mouth almost made me drop the damn thing on the floor.  
  
To be honest, the sushi tasted pretty good, but Duo had been pulled into another animated conversation before I’d had a chance to tell him. Now, he is leaning forward across the table, those purple eyes locked on mine, and for a moment all I can do is watch his mouth form the syllables of my name.  
  
“Hm? Yuy?” He says, and I realize I need to say something, he’s waiting for my response.  
  
“Well, I’m not dead yet,” I quip, and he grins a giant, thousand-watt smile at me. Sue is a hundred miles away at this point. I feel drunker than I should off of three beers, and there is an odd sweet pain threading its way across my chest. I suddenly have the urge to get up and leave; I want to run and hide.  
  
I settle for a trip to the bathroom, and I escape into a stall, just to have space to clear my head and breathe a little. Duo does this to me, and I don’t think he knows it. If he does, and this is on purpose, then he’s a damn sadist. He’s killing me.  
  
The door swings open after a few minutes and someone stands outside the door of my stall.  
  
“Heero?” Speak of the devil. “You okay, buddy?”  
  
“I’m fine,” I manage, wishing very badly I hadn’t decided to drink tonight.   
  
“Maybe you spoke too soon on that dying part, huh?”  
  
I stand up and open the door, and find Duo leaning against the other side. He gives me a quick look up and down, his brows drawing together when he notices my breathing is quicker than normal. I suppose he thinks I got sick.  
  
“I’m fine,” I repeat, trying to think of an excuse. “I needed to get the hell away from Sue for a while.”  
  
He laughs. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. There are close talkers, and then there’s  _that_.”  
  
I go to the sink and wash my hands, just out of habit, and Duo peers into the mirror, running his tongue along his teeth to check for food. I stare at him for a second, blindsided by the gesture.  
  
“It’s really started coming down outside,” he says, “everyone’s packing up before it gets too bad for the taxis to drive.”  
  
I almost sigh in relief that dinner is over. It’s been a long, frustrating night, too many people, too much stimulation. I’m already looking forward to it being just Duo and me on the walk back to my apartment. I never feel like I have to pretend to know what I’m doing when it’s just us two. I never feel like I have to perform.  
  
We leave the bathroom and join the rest of the group, who are paying, slipping into jackets, chatting to each other on their slow shuffle out the door. The window is fogged, a steady stream of white flakes raining delicately down onto the street outside. We put our money down, give Grant and Janice our congratulations again, and say goodbye, heading out the door and into the cold December night.  
  
* * * *  
  
The world is quiet.  
  
Everyone has retreated into cars and buildings and it’s almost like we’re the only two people in the city tonight. We walk together, our breaths little clouds of fog in front of us, and we don’t talk, the silence all around us inspiring a strange kind of reverence.  
  
Something about the untouched snow on the ground, the endless white and biting cold, reminds me of looking up at the moon. I get that same feeling that I did when I used to lay back on my Gundam and think about things... and people. Does Heero feel the same way about the snow? I shake my head, feeling somehow like I’ve had this conversation with myself before.  
  
Drinking has helped a little with the cold, but not enough, my hands still freezing even in my coat pockets, but mostly what I’m noticing is how the snow is falling in chunks on Heero’s hair, speckling it white, and I suppose he has too damn much to even notice it’s getting cold up there. I can feel the red come into my cheeks and nose, but he looks utterly undisturbed.  
  
The lights are still on all over the street, sparkling, the snow reflecting them back in muted pastels. We pass the park again and it’s deserted now, and I imagine how warm and happy those couples must be, watching the snow fall together, back in their houses. I try not to, but there is a second of imagining Heero and I like that together, and the damn alcohol makes me sigh before I can think to stop myself.  
  
“Duo?” Heero says, and I come up with a distraction fast.  
  
“Hey, Heero, come with me,” I say, and I cut across the deserted street toward the park. Heero joins me a second later, giving me a slightly confused look.  
  
The park is not large or fancy, probably built to pretty up the traffic circle that surrounds it. A small, paved path winds around the exterior, the benches situated between the bare trees along its route snow-covered and glistening. In the center is a large stone fountain, a statue of a little girl pouring out a basin of forever-flowing water at its top. The fountain is a memorial to the children killed in Alliance military air strikes; there is a little plaque at the bottom, mostly covered by snow now, that says so. The water in the fountain is frozen solid, a cascade of ice pouring from the girl’s basin all the way down to the bottom level. I walk right up to it and peer up at the little snowy stone face.  
  
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I say, mostly to myself, not even really sure if I’m talking about the waterfall of ice, or the fountain, or the statue, or the sentiment behind it, or just this night, this strange peaceful cold silence, and being alone here with Heero, alone on the Earth together. I almost wish we could just stay frozen here for a while too, side by side.  
  
“Yeah,” he says quietly. He’s right beside me, and he’s looking at me. Maybe he’s also trying to figure out which part I mean. I think I mean all of it.  
  
I turn to him and smile. His blue eyes are so dark in the street light, dark as space, but much more beautiful. He’s so damn beautiful. We would be so damn beautiful together, I think, or the beer thinks for me, and suddenly my heart is red hot in the icy cold, burning like it’s on fire. I love him. My God, I really, really do.  
  
I should really turn away, break the gaze, before he starts to question just what it is I’m looking at, before he sees too much, but something about this night, the snow on the ground as white and vast and silent as the moon, locks me in place. Maybe my wish  _has_  been granted, and we really are frozen to the spot, gazing eternally at each other.  
  
He doesn’t look away either. Several expressions fight for prominence on his face, but eventually they even out and he’s staring at me with this strange, open look, no hint of annoyance or wariness or cold, just... peace. I feel it too. I probably have the same damn look on my face.  
  
What exactly are we doing?  
  
For a second, I feel like if I reached out right now, he wouldn’t push me away.  
  
I don’t do it. I am too damn scared. The smile runs off my face, and suddenly it’s like I can’t even look at him.  
  
“Come on, we should get home before we both get hypothermia,” I crack, and turn away from the fountain, my cheeks burning from more than just the cold, and we continue back down the street, my heart on fire and my mind too damn clouded to think straight.  
  
I won’t get any sleep tonight.  
  
* * * *  
  
Here we go again.  
  
Somehow the night is over, our short time alone together on the walk home has already ended, and we’re standing outside my apartment building, under the awning, while the snow continues to fall around us. It’s cold, and Duo’s teeth have been softly chattering for the last few minutes. It’s time to say goodnight, and I should have gone inside and let Duo get home already, but my mind has been in a strange place since he took me over to look at the frozen memorial fountain.  
  
He’d asked me if I thought it was beautiful. I suppose he was talking about the fountain. But I had been staring at him, the way I have been doing all night, watching the snowflakes fall on his upturned face as he looked up at the statue of the little girl, and when I had answered that yes, it was beautiful, I hadn’t been talking about the fountain at all. He’d turned to look at me then, and my heart had almost leapt out of my throat, sure that he had just caught me revealing way too much, that his small, easy smile would falter as soon as he realized just what I had been implying.  
  
But none of that had happened. He had held my gaze, and we had just stared at each other, and I’m not sure if it was the snow or the quiet or just the power he has over me, but I felt as if everything in the world was... right. I had felt peace, and safety, and for a crazy, impossible moment, I’d thought that if I had reached for him, he would have let me pull him close.  
  
He’d turned from me then, a strange, sad look on his face, and we’d walked the rest of the way back in silence, but my mind has raced me home and the thought of him leaving is causing my heart to twist painfully in my ribcage.  
  
He’s looking at the snow caked on his shoes, his hair speckled white with snowflakes.  
  
“Well...” He says, and I realize it’s the beginning of a goodbye, and my heart wrings itself out again.  
  
I want him to stay. I come up with an excuse on the spot.  
  
“Your hands are cold,” I say quickly, “come up and I’ll let you borrow some gloves.”  
  
He looks up at me with surprise, and then his smile is back on full display. I find myself smiling back, because I know I have at least a few more minutes with him. I’m shocked at how relieved I feel.  
  
We head into the lobby, shaking off our shoes at the door, our jackets and pants soaked with melted snow. It’s warm inside, and I can see Duo is particularly happy to be out of the cold.  
  
I could invite him to stay the night, I think wildly. Then, this would only be the beginning of the evening, not the end.  
  
I scowl into the mirror on the side of the elevator wall. I need to stop being such a moron, I tell myself. Duo could have anyone he wanted on the whole Earth Sphere. I have nothing to offer that somebody else doesn’t. He doesn’t know how he makes me feel. He doesn’t occupy my thoughts like this on purpose. If he knew... if he knew, I doubt he’d be following me up to my apartment at all.  
  
We get out on my floor and walk down to my door together, not saying a word, my heart a shuddering drum in my chest. I turn the lock and step inside, and he leans against the open doorway while I search for a pair of gloves he can borrow. When I locate them, he grins as he takes them from me, sliding the black wool over his hands.  _They_  get to follow him home. I don’t think I’ve ever been jealous of an inanimate object before.  
  
“Thanks, man, you’re really saving me,” he says, and now it’s really time to say goodbye, and I can’t think of any more distractions to delay the inevitable.  
  
He stands up, straightens, and turns to me. We’re looking at each other again, that same strange look from before, that makes me wish for impossible things.  
  
“Well...” he says again, and this time I know he’ll finish the thought. “Guess I should get going...”  
  
I don’t say anything, because the only thing I can think of to say is: don’t go. Don’t ever go.  
  
“Night, Heero.”  
  
“Good night.”  
  
He’s smiling, but it’s almost a frown. He looks strangely... miserable.  
  
And then he’s leaving, pulling the door closed behind him. It clicks shut, but not before I hear Duo sigh heavily on the other side.  
  
I ought to turn the deadbolt, or take off my coat, change out of my wet clothes, but I’m rooted to the spot, my mind has latched onto that sad look in his eyes, that sigh he waited to give until he thought I couldn’t hear him. My hand is resting on the lock, frozen in place, everything but my mind standing stock still, and all I can think is, maybe he didn’t want to leave. Maybe he wants to stay. That look he gave me in the park, that long contemplation, comes back to me. It occurs to me, for the first time, that maybe I have not been quite as obvious with my emotions as I thought I have. That perhaps I should have told him not to go.  
  
And that maybe, if I don’t tell him tonight, I might not get another chance.  
  
My hand slides down the door to grasp the handle. Well?  
  
What are you waiting for?  
  
Suddenly, my brain has control of my motor functions again and I’m throwing open the door, rushing into the hallway. He’s not there. Damn! I race toward the elevators, pressing the button frantically. The lights overhead indicate he has only travelled a few floors. I’m cursing for the elevator to come faster, and when it does, I’m inside even before the doors have opened fully, jamming the lobby button down with more effort than is even warranted. I glare at the numbers as they count down, imploring them to hurry the hell up. I need to catch him, before I lose my nerve. Before the words for this wonderful, terrifying feeling escape me.  
  
There’s a ding when the elevator hits the lobby, and it might be the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard in my life. The doors begin to open, and I’m slipping through them, and I see that Duo is only a few steps ahead of me, his braid a dead giveaway.  
  
I’m not too late.  
  
Something strange and thrilling fills me, makes me run instead of walk, and reach for him instead of open my mouth. He turns as I grab him, taking fistfuls of his coat, and he starts to say my name in surprise, but before he can even finish the word, I pull him back through the still-open doors of the elevator, and once inside, keep pulling until there’s nowhere left for him to go except against me, and then the rest is autopilot-- I fall against the wall, one hand snaking into Duo’s cold, wet hair, and I’m closing my mouth over his, kissing him desperately, wildly, trying to suck the breath right out of his lips.  
  
There’s a gasp, a sharp inhale, and then he’s grabbing me, pulling me back from the wall with surprising strength, and slamming me against the elevator panel with a growl I have never heard him use before, and he kisses me back, hard enough to bruise, there’s teeth and tongue and hot breath and his mouth is a wild, alive thing, sucking, biting, drawing some animal noise out of me I do not consciously make, and suddenly my knees buckle and we go to the floor, but he never stops kissing me, even as the elevator stops and the doors open on every floor my accidental button pressing has indicated. We must ride the elevator top to bottom at least twice, but I’m aware of nothing but the hot, sweet slide of Duo’s tongue against mine, the hard, manic press of his mouth, the electric shiver he sends through me when he sucks my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down.  
  
“Heero,” he moans into my mouth. I have no idea how he makes my name sound like that, but now I never want to hear it any other way again. The elevator stops on my floor for the second, or maybe third time, and I don’t even notice, but Duo does, because he hauls me up from the ground and pulls me through the doors, his gloved hand taking mine. It fits so easily in his that it’s like they were always meant to go together. But maybe that is just my imagination running away with me.  
  
It’s only now, running with Duo on a mad dash back to my apartment, that I notice I left my door wide open in my haste to make it to Duo in the lobby. I’m surprised to find I don’t really care. I don’t care about anything except the man in front of me, the warmth of his hand wrapped around mine, the way my mouth tastes from his kiss.  
  
I barely have time to shut the door before Duo tackles me again and sends us both to the ground. He’s laughing even as he’s taking off his clothes, even as he’s bending down to kiss me again. I give him a minute to get everything but his boxers off and thrown into a corner of my living room and then I push him backward and send him tumbling on his ass, and I’m on top of him. Then it’s my turn to undress, which I have never tried to do with my eyes closed and my tongue down someone’s throat before, but I don’t struggle for long until I feel Duo’s fingers gliding up my stomach, unbuttoning my coat and pushing it off my shoulders, grabbing at my sweater and pulling impatiently on that, too. I let him take it off for me, then my pants, and then his hands are all over and I don’t remember how the rest of it comes off, just that Duo is kissing a hot line from my jaw to my collarbone and when he sinks his teeth into muscle I think: he’s going to take a bite out of my heart.  
  
Then I think that he maybe already has.  
  
We don’t waste time, there is something ferocious and raw about the way we touch each other, and in a matter of minutes, we are fucking on the floor, he’s writhing beneath me and when I pull my mouth away to get a good look at him, he smiles that maddening grin, his eyes gazing right into mine, deep, endless purple, and I know I’m lost forever. It’s something like the feel of free-fall, my stomach drops out and my blood sings in my ears, but my mind goes crystal clear. He hasn’t just taken a bite of my heart, he’s swallowed it whole.  
  
Then my mouth is on his again, drawn by its magnetic pull, and I cock his knees up to his shoulders and everything is animal instinct again, and we don’t stop until he begins to shake and arch up against me, and he says my name like that again, and it’s like a command-- I come with his name choked in my throat, and thrust until he joins me. We collapse against the floor, sweat-soaked and clutching each other, and his mouth is at my ear, whispering my name over and over.  
  
And it’s there on the floor, holding him as tight against me as I can manage, that I say goodbye to my heart.  
  
* * * *  
  
It doesn’t stop snowing until long after we have pulled ourselves up off the carpet and cleaned up a little, and we are lying tangled in the sheets of Heero’s bed when I notice that the night sky outside his window is clear again. The moon is white and whole, glowing brightly, the snow beneath it perfect and clean and luminescent, and somewhere in between, flushed and warm and more than a little awestruck by it all, are the two of us.  
  
“It stopped,” he says, the words a sigh against my hair. I nod against his shoulder.  
  
“Yeah, but it’s snowed a ton already. Maybe they’ll give us the day off tomorrow.”  
  
“Or maybe we should just call in sick,” he suggests, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.  
  
“You would never!” I say seriously, and then I find myself laughing at my own statement. After all, Heero has done a lot of things tonight that I thought he’d never do.  
  
“It would be... unexpected,” he concedes.  
  
“You know...” I begin, stretching out against his side, trying to get as close as possible to him. I think I’ll never get enough of touching him. “I think ‘unexpected’ is pretty fucking great so far.”  
  
He chuckles and kisses my forehead, then tilts my head up and searches out my mouth with his, breathing a quiet sigh against my lips.  
  
I think he loves me. God, I think he may have loved me all along.  
  
His kiss moves into something more, and he shifts around until I’m staring up at him again, hair wild, blue eyes pinning me right to the mattress, every inch of skin in contact with mine burning. From the look in his eyes, I think I may have awakened an animal. When I’d thought I wouldn’t get any sleep tonight, I had never imagined it would be because Heero wouldn’t be letting me.  
  
The moon stares impassively down from its window, and the night feels like it’s reaching ahead of us forever, cold and dark and peaceful.  
  
“Duo,” he growls, and I’m lost. I wrap myself around him, and I have one last thought: we really are beautiful together.  
  
And then he says my name again, and I can’t even think anymore. My heart drowns somewhere in the blue of his eyes, the taste of his mouth.  
  
And something tells me I won’t miss it at all.


End file.
